


10 Rules

by Isleofbliss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 08:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1933992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isleofbliss/pseuds/Isleofbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hello, dear readers! So, you’ve picked up <i>10 Rules for Being (totally, casually, head over heels) Sort of in Love with Your BFF</i>. Let me just say - first off - thanks, bro. I appreciate you reading my stuff. Second: sucks, bro. I’m sorry you need these rules. But stay calm! Don’t panic! I’m an expert, so you’re in luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rules

**Author's Note:**

> Ohhh man, this is my first fic. I don't even know what I'm doing.  
> Thanks to my awesome beta, Shira though. Best BFF. I love you... bro.
> 
> And sorry if my tags are misleading. How does one tag a rule book??? Scott isn't even exactly a character in this...

10 Rules

by: P.K. Stilinski

Hello, dear readers! So, you’ve picked up _10 Rules for Being (totally, casually, head over heels) Sort of in Love with Your BFF._ Let me just say - first off - thanks, bro. I appreciate you reading my stuff. Second: sucks, bro. I’m sorry you need these rules. But stay calm! Don’t panic! I’m an expert, so you’re in luck. I’ve been BFFs with my BFF since we were ankle biters in the sandbox (and I mean that literally. Don’t pee on a kid’s sandcastle, there will be retaliation). And I’ve been into my BFF in a more than friend way for who knows how long. Possibly since the beginning. Maybe that whole peeing thing was some territorial, caveman shit. Who knows how kids’ brains work. Anyway… It sucks, it’s horrible. But I’m here to help you, dude.

 

Rule 1: (the most important) Just don’t do it.

Just don’t. I’m serious. That’s the first and most important rule: JUST DON’T.

For the love of god and all that is holy and just... for the love of the bro - or sis or gender nonconforming or sibling/friend - code, DO NOT fall in love with your best friend. Such a bad idea.

(Especially if you hang out with a bunch of supernatural creatures who can tell when you’re lying and can fucking smell your emotions. I’m fucking serious. You are making such a mistake. Just don’t do it.)  
Now, I know, I know, it’s super hard to see this shit coming. Your BFF is no doubt a super cool dude - or dudette or non-binary dudlin@ and maybe your love for them means you just like their face, but you’re treading dangerous territory. Go any farther than appreciating their face and shit starts getting risky. Nip it in the bud.

Let’s work on acknowledging the difference between good bro behavior and going too far. Here’s a handy quiz to help you out.

  1. Your BFF starts to get some sweet abs. You… 

    a. Congratulate your buddy.

    b. Wonder how those abs feel.

    c. Wrestle them so you can feel those sweet abs on your bod.

  2. Your BFF leaves their shirt at your house. You…

    a. Immediately return it.

    b. Maybe sniff it before returning it.

    c. Don’t return it. Instead you keep it hidden and occasionally sniff it or wear it to sleep or cuddle with it.

  3. Inevitably, someone jokes that you guys are dating. You…

    a. Laugh and say you’re an old married couple. 

    b. Laugh awkwardly and panic inside.

    c. Don’t respond, but you go home and maybe cry a bit.

  4. You’re having a nice moment and you’re physically close. The urge to make out is…

     a. Nonexistent.

     b. There, but easily ignored.

     c. So fucking strong.




Tally up your answers, dude!

Mostly A’s: You’re a good bro, bro!

Mostly B’s: Tamp down on that shit, you’ve got a crush.

Mostly C’s: You’ve got it bad, dude. I’ve been there - I am there. This guide is for you.

For those of you who got mainly B’s - there’s hope for you yet! My advice? When you feel yourself getting all mushy, just smack yourself - physically or mentally, doesn’t matter. Your best hope is to keep a close eye on keeping your feelings friendly and to especially follow the next rule.

For those who got mainly C’s - you’re fucked, but stick to the rules and things won’t be quite so bad. Don’t get me wrong, it still sucks, it will just suck a bit less.

 

Rule 2: Distract yourself by loving someone else.

I know your BFF is the best and greatest person you know. And you probably feel like they’re your one and only, but you CAN love more than one person at a time. It’s a thing. Maybe you won’t love this other person as much as you love your BFF, but it will still help. Trust me.

There are lots of fish in the sea. You can eat as many as you want and they’ll still taste great, even if they don’t taste as great as _the one_.

…

You know what, forget I made that analogy. I didn’t mean it how it came out, but- my point is, there are other people. You’re gonna be alright.

 

Rule 3: Don’t touch yourself while thinking about your bro.

Trust me, you’re making it worse. I know it feels great at the time, but you’re gonna regret it. Get off to ANYONE else, but getting off to your friend comes with consequences.

Don’t train your body to connect your friend to getting off. You’ve got enough problems as it is.

 

Rule 4: When your body rebels, have some unsexy thoughts at the ready.

This rule isn’t quite as dire for those of you without a dick, but for comfort and convenience, keep a list of unsexy things on rotation.

My go tos are:

-Wrinkly old people sex (it’s best if they’re related to you. And the older, the better. Great-grandparents, anyone?).

-If your bro has a significant other, picture them finding out you’re thinking sexy things about said bro. They get really mad and cut your junk off.

-If you have a significant other, picture the same thing, but with your significant other cutting off your junk.

-That teacher you hate.

-Imagine your boner (or whatever the dick-less alternative of a boner is) is actually you having explosive diarrhea and if you get any more turned on, it will just burst out of you.

-Childbirth.

-Childbirth through a dick.

 

Rule 5: It’s not awkward if it’s a joke.

Your feelings are gonna build up. I’m really sorry, buddy. It’s just a fact. Relieve some of the tension- not _that_ way, get your mind out of the gutter, you pervert!- by making some jokes. And who knows, maybe it’ll turn into a physical joke and you’ll get a bit of action, even if it is one time and not the real thing.

Joking about your attraction is the safest way to go. And you can always say it was just a joke. If things start to get awkward, backpedaling is your friend!

 

Rule 6: Always emphasize your friendliness.

OK, I already said in the last rule how you’re gonna need to relieve some tension and I’m sorry, but you’re gonna need that a lot (remember to use lots of lotion, you nasty boy!). Joking about attraction isn’t enough.

Tell your BFF how much they matter to you, but throw in some “bro”s and “man”s and “dude”s.

It’s totally fine to say, “I love you, man.” Or “Lookin’ good, dude.”

 

Rule 7: The friendzone is actually great. Stay there.

Fuck all those assholes who talk shit about being in the friendzone. The friendzone is a great, happy place.

I mean, would you rather be just friends with the person you love? Or would you rather not have them in your life at all? If you answered the second one, then I think you gotta rethink your idea of love, dude. Your perception is skewed. Why the hell would you think nothing is better than something?

Don’t screw yourself over. Being friends matters so much more than whatever else you think you might want.

Which leads me to the next rule.

 

Rule 8: Your BFF’s happiness comes before your own

If they fall in love, you fucking support them through it. You know how much loving from afar can suck, save your friend from that.

If they want help wooing, you fucking help. Be a good bro and help your bro get some ladies (or bros or non-binary peeps).

 

Rule 9: Protect your buddy at all costs.

I really hope you never have to come to the sudden realization that you may lose them and that a life without them might not be worth it. But lucky you! I’ve been there and I can tell you first hand, it sucks. Avoid it at all costs.

Protect your bro. Your bro is more important than you.

Life sucks already, but knowing you hurt your BFF makes it so, so much worse.

Keep them close. Hover near by if they push you away. Not in a creepy stalker way, but just to make sure they’re safe.

It doesn’t matter if they’re physically stronger than you, you protect them, tooth and nail.

They matter so much more than you or your dumb feelings.

 

Rule 10: Keep your feelings under wraps.

I know I said you’ll need to release the tension, but joking to your BFF that you love them is so, so much different than actually admitting it to someone.

People will guess and tease and assume, but deny it to your dying day.

The sympathy and the knowing looks are horrible. And I know you get them already, but believe me, a couple people guessing shit and giving you looks is so different than them _actually_ knowing and giving you those looks.

They don’t know shit and you don’t need their sympathy. You’re fucking lucky enough to be best friends with an amazing person who you love a lot. You don’t need sympathy for that.  
So deny everything.

Tell them it’s just how you guys are.

Tell them you were just curious.

Tell them he’s your brother.

It’s all half truths at least.

Tell them anything but the _whole_ truth. 

They can’t prove shit if you don’t tell them shit.

Don’t even give them the opportunity. Just stick to my rules.

...No matter what anyone else says.

 

It sucks, I know. But I’m helping you make it suck a little less. Good luck, my brother in unrequited arms. I hope you find some requited love and I hope your BFF stays your BFF.

 

 

\------------------------------------------

Afterword

by the lovely and all knowing L. D. Martin

Stiles, you're an idiot.

(God, Rule 2 explains so much.)

I want you to trust me when I say you are wrong. You don’t even know how fucking wrong you are, honey.

I know you think it’s not true, but Scott is in love with you, you idiot.

I wouldn’t lie about this and I’m not wrong.

I know this isn’t convincing you at all, but that isn’t my point.

This is just a warning.

You’re wrong and I’m fixing this.

 

You’re both ridiculous.


	2. The Result

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on writing more, but then I was replying to a comment saying as much and suddenly this happened. So, here you go:

Lydia answered her phone absently, entirely focused on coordinating her outfit for the next day.

“Lydia!!” Stiles squealed, his voice taking on that nasally quality it had when he became aggravated.

Lydia let out a sigh, holding up coral nail polish to a blue skirt she had laid out on her bed, "Speaking."

A complicated sound came from Stiles as he tried to speak through his exasperation, "You! You -- you read my rule book! You found my rule book!"

"Can you really call it a book, Stiles? I hardly think that's accurate."

The coral would work with the blue skirt, but the white blouse just couldn't work with coral nails. Lydia set the blouse aside.

"How?!"

"How did I find it."

"Yes!!!"

"Oh, hun," Lydia said as she scanned through her closet for another top. "You really aren't as sneaky as you think you are."

Stiles made another strange, distressed noise and blew out a loud gust of air. Lydia pulled her phone away from her ear, giving it a displeased look before tucking it back between her ear and shoulder.

"Don't..." Stiles began, suddenly calm and incredibly serious, "Don't tell Scott."

"I wish you would just trust me, Stiles. This is for your own good."

"You can't," Stiles whispered.

Perhaps her pink top with the blue collar. That could pull the look together nicely.

"Please. I can't lose him," Stiles said, voice sounding choked off and far away. Lydia's mouth twisted and she turned away from her closet empty-handed.

Perhaps she was being a little rough with him.

"Stiles, everything will be fine," she reassured him.

"Alright... but does that mean-"

"Look, I should go," Lydia said, needing to cut him off before he could try to change her mind. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll see you soon."

"Wait! Does that mean-"

Lydia hung up the phone. Her outfit would have to wait; she had a new task to finish.

\-----

At 7 o'clock on the dot, Lydia left her car and went to stand by Scott's bike.

A few minutes later he left the vet's, his expression concerned, "Is something wrong?"

"Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon," Lydia told him, the sly glint in her eyes turning her smile saccharine.

"Come on, I'm giving you a ride," Lydia turned and walked straight back to her car without checking to see if Scott was following her.

When he got in the car and had buckled in, Lydia handed him a few photocopies of lined notebook paper.

"Read this."

"What is it?"

"Just read it," Lydia said, pulling out onto the road.

Scott did. Occasionally he looked up to say something, but each time Lydia would cut him off, tapping at the paper with a command to keep reading.

At one odd turn, Scott looked up, suddenly noticing where they were.

“We’re going the wrong way….”

“No we’re not,” Lydia replied, her tone leaving no room for further conversation. “Keep reading.”

Scott stared at her suspiciously for a while, but Lydia remained unphased and continued driving. Knowing he was beat, Scott gave up and read on. As they were turning onto Stiles’ road, Scott finished reading. His eyes were now unable to leave the pages in front of him.

He cleared his throat, “Stiles wrote this?”

Lydia pursed her lips and nodded, “He did.”

Scott continued staring at the pages, as though some hidden joke would suddenly pop out at him.

“...About… me?”

Lydia resisted the urge to sigh, “Yes. About you.”

“Stiles wrote this about me,” Scott restated.

Honestly, she deserved a medal for putting up with her pack.

“Yes,” Lydia said as she pulled into the driveway behind Stiles’ jeep.

“But… Stiles doesn’t like me like that…” Scott told her, his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Lydia leveled a look at Scott, “Obviously he does.”

Scott blinked at her.

“Do you feel the same way?” Lydia prompted.

Scott’s mouth gaped open, “I… he’s - he - Stiles… and I’m… me...”

Shutting her eyes and putting her hand to her forehead, Lydia muttered to herself, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

She failed to suppress another sigh, “Did you take the quiz?”

Scott nodded.

 

“And what did you get?”

Scott bit his lip and ducked his head, “Three c’s and a b.”

Eyebrows raised, Lydia tilted her head, “And what do the rules say that means?”

A smile twitched at Scott’s lips, “It says I’ve got it bad.”

“Do you agree?” Lydia asked, trying and failing to sound patient.

Scott was silent.

God, Lydia was going to have to do all the work for these two.

“How would you feel if Stiles kissed you?”

The question was met with surprise before a pleased expression spread over Scott’s face as he actually pictured it.

“And if he held your hand?”

Scott’s brow furrowed once again, “But… we already do that.”

Lydia was very proud of herself for holding in the urge to face palm. Of course they held hands. They probably did everything just short of sex.

“Well, do you like holding his hand?”

“Yeah,” Scott said with an enthusiastic nod.

“How would you feel about having sex?”

Scott gave her a flabbergasted look and a once over.

Lydia shut her eyes in frustration and put her hand up, “With Stiles, not me.”

“Oh.”

How the hell had the pack gotten anything done without her?

Scott’s mouth dropped open, a far away, dreamy look coming into his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, blushing.

Lydia smiled, “Well then, I think that’s settled.”

And with that, she got out of the car, walking to the other side to open Scott’s door for him.

“Out,” she ordered, flicking her head.

Scott followed her in a daze, pausing occasionally to stare unfocused into the distance. Lydia ignored this and continued walking, up the steps and to Stiles’ front door.

She glanced back, seeing Scott a few feet away from the steps, his head tilted thoughtfully.

“Scott,” Lydia pronounced as she rang the doorbell.

Scott shook himself out of his thoughts and bounded up to the door. After a short while, the peephole became dark and a loud, “Nope!” sounded from the other side. Lydia turned the door handle and pushed, only to be met with resistance.

“Stiles!” Lydia protested, slapping at the door with the flat of her hand.

“Nope!”

“Stiles…!” Lydia paused briefly, wracking her mind to find if she had ever heard Stiles’ middle name before she gave up and finished with, “Stilinski!”

Come to think of it, Lydia had absolutely no idea what his first name even was. Perhaps that could work to her advantage…

“What’s Stiles’ first name?” Lydia asked Scott conversationally, just loud enough to make sure Stiles would hear.

 

“Don’t you dare tell her, Scott!”

“If you’d open the door, he wouldn’t have to!” Lydia singsonged.

“But -- he can’t even say it right!” Stiles spluttered. “He’ll butcher it!”

“Scott?” Lydia asked expectantly.

Scott looked back at her hesitantly, then at the door. She crossed her arms.

“It’s… um,” Scott’s face pinched in concentration. “Push… Pursh… uh….”

“Oh my god!” Stiles whined, wrenching the door open.

“Seriously?” he asked, going to give Scott an exasperated look, but stopping his gaze short to hover somewhere at Scott’s shoulder.

Scott shrugged and smiled awkwardly, staring at Stiles’ socked feet.

“So, what-” Stiles choked on a swallow and tried to lean nonchalantly against the door frame. “What do you guys want?”

Scott continued to stare at Stiles’ socked feet, leaving Lydia to once again take the initiative. She shoved at Scott’s back, pushing him to go inside.

“You two are talking,” she informed them.

She grabbed each of their arms and led them to the couch. Letting go, she put one hand on her hip and pointed to the couch with the other.

“Sit,” she ordered.

They sat.

She wiggled her finger between the two of them, “You are talking about the list of rules.”

Stiles snuck a glance at Scott, turning pink and beginning to look a little sick.

“Lydia, please-” Stiles started to say, moving to stand up.

She leveled him with a withering glare and he plopped back down.

“You are talking,” Lydia restated, “and so help me, when I come back in five minutes, if you haven’t got your shit together, I will find more extreme measures to sort this out.”

An awkward, sudden laugh burst out of Stiles, causing Scott to look up and give him a dopey grin. Lydia took that as her cue to leave.

When she reached the door, she called over her shoulder, “Remember, five minutes! Or it gets worse!”

Pulling the door shut, Lydia had to resist going back in the room as she heard Stiles clear his throat to ask, “So, how ‘bout them Giants?”

_Boys._

But Lydia had done enough meddling for the day, so she went back to her car, flicking on the radio and pulling out her math homework.

 _God._ She really hoped this would work.

\-----

After the five minute mark, Lydia went back up to Stiles’ house and opened the door just enough to peek her head in.

Scott was just pulling back from Stiles’ mouth, his eyes open wide and looking at Stiles with complete adoration, thumb stroking at Stiles’ cheek. It took Stiles a second to open his eyes, but when he did, a slow smile spread over his whole face and Lydia suddenly realized she had never seen Stiles smile a _real_ smile. Scott returned it with a grin and a full body, contented sigh, then rested his forehead against Stiles’.

Lydia smiled, feeling incredibly accomplished. She pulled her head back and shut the door silently. Nearly skipping with delight, she made her way back to her car, started it up, and drove away.

Honestly. This pack would never survive without her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are curious, Stiles' name in my head is Przemysław Klaudius  
> Also, my wonderful beta informed me that the phrase is actually "So, how 'bout them [insert local sports team]". Apparently I've been revealing my SoCal origins this whole time. My mind is blown and I feel weird not having that phrase end in "Dodgers"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing fic. So critique is totally welcome, but be nice.


End file.
